


the train is expected in five minutes

by MiraclesofPaul



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: (for like a sentence i swear and the violence is also not graphic), Horror, M/M, Shane coming to terms with the reality of the supernatural, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, a pinch of mutual pining, demonic curse, they stumble upon something real during a shoot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesofPaul/pseuds/MiraclesofPaul
Summary: Ryan finds himself in an abandoned train station with no memory of how he got there.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 38
Kudos: 180
Collections: Skeptic Believer Book Club Hallowe'en Fic Exchange 2020





	the train is expected in five minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Guineforts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guineforts/gifts).



> Hopefully this came out alright for you, Guineforts! You gave me a ton of great ideas, and I hope I did justice to them. Happy halloween!

...and Ryan shivers as a freezing gust of wind blows through, and he almost loses his balance. He crosses his arms, hugging himself tight, but it doesn’t really help. It’s still twilight, but the light is quickly fading. He should’ve worn gloves and probably a hat. His coat is too light to do much against the wind that keeps biting at him.

The elevated train station looks small and run down. He sees only one doorway on the other side of the station, which must be for the stairs. His eyes water as another wind gust hits him. _I should've worn more layers,_ he thinks, but he’s never been to Chicago before, not that he can remember. Why would they build open air train stations in such a cold city? It seems like a very silly idea.

The train is expected to arrive in five minutes, or so the sign says.

Ryan stumbles as he walks over towards the empty bench and sits down. He closes his eyes as the world seems to tilt uncomfortably to the left, opening them again only when the feeling subsides. _It’s not like it’s snowing. Why is the air so cold? Something about the lakes. I heard that somewhere._ He rubs his hands together, hoping to get a bit of blood back into them. It’s only then that he notices that there’s no one on the other side of the tracks.

He looks around and realizes there’s no one here at all. He’s alone. The station is completely silent. He frowns, feeling uneasy. The train is expected in four minutes.

_It’s okay. That’s fine. When the train gets here, I’ll get on and then at least escape the wind. And then…_ Ryan feels a wave of dread hit him as he realizes that he doesn’t know what’s next. He feels dizzy and sick, his brain foggy as it struggles to put it all together. _Why am I here? Where is this train taking me?_

He gets up quickly — too quickly, and the world spins as he grips the back of the bench for support. He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the way the cold bites at his lungs.

He blinks to get his vision back in focus and begins to take cautious steps. They seem to echo, amplified by the silence. Nothing looks familiar. _How did I get here?_ The advertisements look old and faded, illegible graffiti everywhere. There’s a map of the train lines, but it’s only partially visible and not helpful at all.

The train is expected in two minutes.

He walks over towards the rail and holds on tight to the freezing metal. He’s scared to look down, afraid he’ll get dizzy again. His breath is visible as it becomes more ragged, fear taking over. He doesn’t recognize any of this. None of the squat, brown buildings, none of the empty roads. There’s something strange about the sight, something that unsettles him even more, but he’s not sure what it is.

_Maybe I should leave and ask for help. I don’t know why I’m here._

Before he can make up his mind, a sound startles him, making him whip back around. The train is coming. He takes a few cautious steps towards the tracks, heart racing. _I should just get on the train. I must’ve been standing here for a reason. Maybe I’ll remember when I step inside._

He can see the train snaking its way towards him. Yes, maybe getting on is the best idea. He doesn’t know what else to do. His knees feel weak as he takes more steps forward until he’s just two steps away from the edge. Yes, he’ll get on, and once he’s out of the cold, he can decide what to do.

The train is close now. A chill runs down his spine, and then he feels a hard push on his back — hard enough that he can’t catch himself as he stumbles forward. A scream of terror escapes his throat as he falls, arms flailing. He lands head first on the tracks, hears a sickening crack as pain rushes through his body. The train is coming at him fast, and all Ryan can do is squeeze his eyes shut and brace for impact.

There is pain and darkness, pain that burns and tears and stomps all of the air from his lungs.

...and then he opens his eyes. He shivers as a freezing gust of wind blows right through him, the cold biting at his lungs as he takes a deep breath. The train is expected in five minutes.

_I should’ve brought gloves and a hat. A heavier coat. God, who decided to put a train station outside in Chicago? And up in the goddamn air, too._ He looks around and realizes he’s alone. He frowns, feeling a wave of unease.

He walks over toward the rail and looks down at the streets below. He can’t see much with the twilight fading into darkness. Just some squat, brown buildings and empty streets. There’s something eerie about the sight, but what? _Maybe Chicago always looks like this,_ he thinks as he turns and starts walking parallel to the tracks.

The train is expected in three minutes.

This place is so goddamn creepy. There’s an abandoned air to it, ignored and ravaged by time. A sick feeling begins to flood his stomach more and more with each step. He doesn’t recognize any of this. Not the advertisements, not the graffitied map. The realization trickles in as he looks around wildly: he doesn’t know how he got here or why he’s here at all. This feels like a nightmare, and _yes, that must be it._ He pinches the skin on his wrist as hard as he can, but it hurts and he quickly lets go with a hiss.

Not a dream then. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says under his breath as tries to look for some clue that will make it all fall into place. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him. He quickly pats his pockets, searching for his phone, for his wallet, for his keys, for _something._ They're all empty.

There is a doorway at the other end of the platform, which must lead to the stairs. _Did I come through there? I don’t remember. Why can’t I remember? There must be something._ He stops dead in his tracks as another gust of wind cuts through him.

He’s never felt this cold before in his life. He cups his hands together and tries to exhale warm air into them. It doesn’t make sense for him to be out here without any gloves. _Why am I here? How could I have —_

He’s startled by the sound of the train approaching.

He has to decide and decide quickly. He tries to take deep breaths, the cold filling them up painfully. He tries to hold back the panic that is barreling through his brain. He’ll freeze if he stays out here. At least he would be out of the wind if he got on the train. And _someone_ must be on the train, right? He could ask for help.

He steps closer to the edge of the platform. The train is almost here.

_But where will it take me?_ he thinks, a wave of worry flooding his chest and making it hard for him to breathe. He fully turns to look at the stairs, his back to the platform. _Maybe I should just go downstairs instead._

He feels a chill run down his spine, and then there’s a strong push, the force striking him right at his chest. He stumbles backwards, eyes wide, as he feels himself fall and fall and fall, unable to stop it. His breath is knocked out of him as he lands on his back on top of the tracks. He can smell the metal of the train just a second away.

The last thing he sees is a shadowy figure on the platform, just where he’d been standing, and then there is pain and darkness, an endless aching darkness that burns and suffocates.

...and the pain subsides as he opens his eyes, shivering from the freezing gust of wind that had nearly knocked him over. Jesus, why on earth would a city as cold as Chicago have open, elevated platforms like this? Is it some sort of sick joke they like to play on unprepared tourists? _This is the state that gave us the nation’s greatest tragedy,_ he thinks and feels amused for one second before he frowns. It’s like he knew the punchline but not the joke.

The train is expected in five minutes.

_I should’ve at least brought some gloves. I’m definitely getting frostbite right now. Can’t wait to get out of this freezing cold,_ he thinks miserably as another shiver runs through him. _I should’ve checked the weather when packing. Why didn’t I do that?_

He blinks, his mind reaching for memories it doesn’t possess. He looks up quickly, eyes scanning his surroundings, searching for some sort of clue. He finds none. Yes, usually he’s meticulous about researching the city he’s going to and packing for the weather and knowing what places he’s going to visit. So why doesn’t he know where he is right now? Why can’t he remember how he got here?

“Hello?” he says as he takes shaky steps down the deserted platform. There’s no answer, and his heart squeezes painfully in his chest, terrified. In a louder voice, he calls out, _“_ _Hello?_ Is someone here?”

His voice rings in the empty station and is answered only by silence.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, but it’s not there. He frantically checks his other pockets, looks around to see if maybe he dropped it, but there’s nothing there. No keys, no wallet, no phone — “What the fuck?” he says, voice cracking.

Panic takes over, and he breaks into a run, eyes on the doorway at the end of the platform. His heart is hammering in his chest. He stops abruptly as he reaches the stairs, afraid. The stairs are L-shaped and he can’t see the bottom, can’t see where they lead. It’s shadowy and silent and — _what the fuck is going on?_

He shivers violently, but he can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from the terror clawing through him. This is a fucking nightmare. There’s no other explanation. He pinches the skin on his wrist as hard as he can, but it hurts and he quickly lets go with a hiss.

Okay, not a dream then. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he says as he forces himself to step forward and cautiously descend the stairs. He stops at the midway platform, crouching to see what’s at the bottom. A gasp escapes him as he sees that the doorway is closed with iron gates. He quickly goes the rest of the way down. There’s a big padlock holding the gates closed with heavy chains. “Fuck!” he yells as he grabs the cold metal bars and shakes them as hard as he can. He gives them a desperate kick and then another, just to _try,_ just because he has to do _something,_ but they refuse to move.

_God, what am I going to do? What the fuck should I do?_ He can’t be trapped here. There has to be some way out, something he can _do,_ some answer to all of this.

He hears a small rumble, the sound of the train coming. _Oh thank God,_ he thinks as he quickly turns and runs back upstairs.

Ryan can see it quickly approaching in the distance as he walks closer to the edge of the platform. Someone must be inside that train. They can help him, maybe take him to a hospital. Something must be terribly wrong with him if he can’t remember how the hell he ended up here.

Why would he come to Chicago by himself? Someone must be looking for him. Something bad must've happened. Why can’t he remember?

The train is closer now, almost here, but a sense of dread floods him instead of relief. His legs are shaking, weak with fear.

“ _Ryan!”_ a desperate voice calls out.

Ryan flinches, startled, and quickly turns around. There’s no one there. He’s all alone, but he had heard it so clearly.

Then he feels a push on his chest, the force hard enough to send him flying backwards. His eyes widen as they take in a shadowy figure standing on the platform. Its form is grotesque, something unspeakably evil about it. Ryan lands on the tracks, screaming in terror and pain, and then the train is _right there_ — pain and darkness, an endless burning that consumes him, tears him apart over and over.

...and his lungs burn as they fill with icy air. Ryan shivers, wrapping his arms tighter around himself in a vain attempt to retain a little heat.

His eyes land on the sign that says the train is expected in five minutes. God, five more minutes of this agony. He should’ve brought some gloves. His fingers feel like icicles. _How the fuck do people live here when it’s snowing?_ he wonders. If it’s this cold _without_ snow, he doesn’t want to find out what it’s like with giant piles of ice everywhere.

There’s a man sitting on a bench just a few feet away. A quick glance around tells Ryan that they’re the only two people here right now. There’s something strangely familiar about him.

It’s getting dark, the twilight fading. He reaches for his phone, but his pocket is empty. He quickly checks all of his pockets, but finds nothing. “What the fuck?” he says out loud without meaning to, twisting to check if he dropped his stuff by accident. There’s nothing there. Was he robbed?

_When the fuck did that happen? When was the last time I had my stuff?_ His stomach drops as he realizes he doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember how he got to Chicago, doesn’t remember how he got here or even _why_ he’s here.

The man is looking at him, eyes curious, and Ryan doesn’t know what else to do but approach him. “Hey, sorry, um, I think someone stole my phone. Could I use yours to make a call?” His heart is racing, panic quickly filling him up. He’s not entirely sure who to call. His parents? 911? Just someone who can help him figure out what the fuck is happening.

The man blinks, and it seems to take him a second to process the request before he reaches a hand into his coat pocket. He’s not wearing gloves either, or a hat, Ryan notices. The man frowns and reaches into his other pocket. Then he says, “I don’t… It’s not there.”

Fear grips Ryan by the throat. There’s something off about this guy, his movements slow and confused. He could be dangerous, could be a part of whatever the fuck it is that’s happening right now, and yet — no. No, Ryan doesn’t believe this guy is bad. Not when he’s looking at Ryan with lost eyes, not when Ryan feels a surge of protectiveness towards this stranger.

“Why don’t I have my stuff?” the man asks, frowning.

“I don’t have my stuff either.” Ryan glances up to check before returning his eyes to the man. “We have three minutes. Do you know where the train is going? Any clue at all what we’re doing here?”

“I… I don’t know. We’re in Chicago, I think, but I don’t know why I’m here.” The man’s frown deepens as he stands up, and _holy shit, this guy’s tall._ “Was I on my way home?”

“You’re from here?”

“Yeah. Or well, I’m from Schaumberg, but I used to live in Chicago. I guess… I guess I still do? I don’t really — did I get hit in the head or something?”

“Listen, um...?”

“Shane.”

“Listen, Shane,” Ryan says, and _huh, yeah, this guy definitely looks like a Shane_ , “something really fucking weird is happening right now, okay? I don’t — I don’t know how I got here either, and I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and I’m freaking the fuck out right now.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know!” Ryan’s pretty sure he’s on the verge of throwing up. He looks around, but there’s nothing that gives him even a little bit of a clue. Running purely on instinct, he walks quickly to the rail of the platform. He flinches as a gust of freezing wind hits him. The rail feels like ice as he braces himself against it.

He doesn’t recognize anything. Just squat, brown buildings and empty roads, as far as Ryan can tell. Shane walks over and stands next to him. Ryan steals a glance of him before returning his eyes to the view below. There are no people. There are no cars. It’s as if they’re the only two people alive, and Ryan forces himself to look away. There is something so unsettling about being here, about everything that is happening right now.

Shane places a hand on his arm, squeezing tight, and it’s so unexpectedly comforting that Ryan could cry. “It’s alright,” Shane says softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

For one strange, delusional second, Ryan wants nothing more than to take a step closer, to wrap his arms around this stranger. He wants protection from the wind and the cold, wants to feel him close. “Alright,” Ryan says, as another shiver runs through his body. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. Maybe someone on the train can help.”

Right on cue, the train can be heard approaching. They walk over to the edge of the platform and watch as the train comes towards them. The fear is still there in his stomach, but he’s relieved he’s not alone in this. _I’d probably have a heart attack if I had to face this by myself._

“Maybe we shouldn’t get on,” Shane says, and when Ryan turns to look at him, his countenance is one of deep concern. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Ryan.”

“Well it’s not like we have a ton of options here. Even if we —” _Wait. Did I ever tell him my name?_ “How do you know —”

His sentence is lost as a strong force pushes his shoulder, sending him straight onto the tracks. He flails and lands on his hands and hears a sickening crack from his wrists. Pain takes over and he hears Shane yell a horrified, “ _No!”_

And then there’s pain and darkness. Endless pain. Endless, burning darkness.

...and the train is expected in five minutes, or so the sign says. It fucking better be on time. Ryan is freezing. He should’ve at least brought gloves.

His eyes land on a man sitting on the bench a few feet away, and his heart gives a startled jolt. He knows him — even in the fading twilight, of that he’s certain — but from where? A quick glance around the run-down looking platform tells him they're the only ones here. He frowns as his chest prickles with anxiety. Something feels off. There’s something wrong, but what?

The man turns to him, and their eyes meet.

Yes, he definitely knows this man. Ryan approaches him, stopping a few feet away. “Hi,” he says cautiously.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, this might sound weird, but I feel like we’ve met before.”

The man studies Ryan’s face, eyes scanning his features carefully. He frowns slightly, looking confused. Ryan worries for a second, a flash of embarrassment in his stomach. _I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe he’s offended that I forgot him or freaked out that some stranger is chatting him up or —_ “Ryan,” the man says. “Yes, we’ve met. I just… I can’t remember how we know each other.”

A gust of freezing wind blows right through Ryan, making him wince and hunch over slightly, teeth nearly chattering. “Fucking hell,” Ryan complains as he straightens back up, arms coming up to hug himself. “Why is Chicago so goddamn cold?”

The man scoots over on the bench, and Ryan quickly takes a seat next to him. There’s something oddly soothing about the man’s presence. “It’s the lake. I’m Shane, by the way.”

_Shane._ He certainly looks like a Shane. “Did you go to Chapman?” Ryan asks.

“No. I think — that’s out in California, right?” When Ryan nods, Shane says, “No, I’ve never… I don’t really remember...” Shane frowns. He looks around the station, and something in Ryan’s chest clenches painfully from the look on Shane’s face. He looks unsettled. He looks _scared,_ and something tells Ryan that Shane doesn’t usually look scared. Then Shane states, “This is a dream.”

“What? How can this be a dream if we’re both here?”

“Do you remember how you got here? Or anything that happened recently?”

Ryan’s eyes are locked once more with Shane’s warm, brown eyes, and he feels so confused. His mind reaches for memories that just aren’t there. Shane’s right. Why is he here? How did he get here? “I don’t know,” he admits. “I have no idea.” He reaches for his phone, but there’s nothing there. “I don’t have my phone.”

Shane muses, “I guess you don’t need a phone in a dream,” but he still looks unsettled.

Without thinking, Ryan reaches over and pinches Shane’s arm. When he yelps and winces, Ryan says, “I don’t think we’re dreaming.”

Shane soothes the spot where Ryan pinched him. “Then I’m out of theories.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Ryan admits. “There’s something dark about this place. It’s got bad energy.”

Shane’s eyebrows go up, looking at Ryan like he just said something insane. “It’s definitely creepy, but I mean. It’s not like the station itself is what gave us amnesia. Maybe there was some sort of… I don’t know. A blast wave that scrambled our brain or something?”

Ryan asks indignantly, “That seriously seems more reasonable to you?” and it’s only once the words are out that he feels a small flash of embarrassment for his tone. It’s overfamiliar _,_ too open, and not the sort of way one speaks to an almost stranger in an abandoned station.

Shane opens his mouth, a quick retort at the ready — Ryan can tell — but then he closes his mouth and looks around again. He frowns. “I don’t know.”

“You feel it too, don’t you? Something is seriously wrong with this place. Something must’ve happened to us.”

Shane doesn’t answer. He’s still scanning the empty station, probably looking for some sort of clue. Ryan can’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t want to. There’s something so achingly familiar about his face. Ryan knows him, knows every tiny expression and look, the slope of his nose, the tiny mole by his eye. He fears that if he looks away, Shane will disappear, and Ryan doesn’t want to be alone in this place.

Another gust of wind hits them, and Ryan groans in misery. _How the fuck have my fingers not fallen off yet?_ As if reading his mind, Shane scoots close to him, their bodies touching from their shoulders to their knees. An arm comes up to wrap around Ryan; with the other, he grabs one of Ryan’s hands and laces their fingers together. Shane’s hand is cold too, but the action still softens and melts Ryan’s heart and makes him feel warm all over.

“Is — is this okay?” Shane asks, his voice right by Ryan’s ear.

“Yes.” It’s so easy to melt into Shane’s touch, as if they’ve done this before. They fit so well together.

The sound of the train in the distance startles them both. Ryan had forgotten that it was coming. _Maybe someone there can help us._

Shane's arm tightens around him, the gesture protective. "We shouldn't get on."

Ryan pulls back just enough to see Shane's face. He looks frustrated, frowning as he watches the train make its way towards them. "Why not?"

"I don't know," he says, sounding like it pains him to admit it. "I can't explain it — I can't explain any of this."

"Just a bad feeling, huh?" Ryan says, teasing, and a smile twitches at the corner of Shane's mouth.

"I'll neither confirm nor deny." He gives Ryan's hand a gentle squeeze before standing up. "Come on, let's get out of here. We can try to find some help."

Ryan misses the warmth of Shane immediately. He stands up as well, quickly following him, and sticks his hands in his pockets to keep himself from instantly grabbing Shane’s hand again. They walk towards the doorway at the other end of the platform. Ryan is only a few steps behind Shane.

Then a horrifying shiver runs down his spine, and he instantly knows it has nothing to do with the cold. Something grabs his leg and pulls hard enough that his whole body slams to the ground. The air is knocked out of him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out as an unnatural force drags him towards the tracks.

Shane turns around quickly, his face full of horror. "Ryan!" he yells as he runs to him, but he's not fast enough.

Ryan's eyes are wide, terrified. He can’t get enough air into his lungs to scream. The train is near; Ryan can hear it. The floor ends under him, and he is in the air for a second before landing hard on the tracks.

That second was enough to see Shane's face, the look of agony there as he stood helplessly at the edge of the platform, and to see a dark malicious figure next to him, shadowy and inhuman.

Then there is pain and darkness, pain that burns and tears and stomps all of the air from his lungs.

...and then the freezing gust of wind ends, and Ryan's eyes are watering as he opens them. What a shitty idea to put an elevated train station in such a —

"Ryan?"

"Shane!" Ryan smiles, his heart fluttering like it usually does when Shane is around. He quickly walks over to where Shane is sitting on a bench a few feet away. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Shane looks around the empty, run-down station and frowns. "Wait, seriously, why are we here?"

It's only then that Ryan takes a proper look around. An unsettled feeling enters his stomach as his brain finally registers the fact that he doesn't know how he got here or why. He hadn’t known that Shane was here. How had he not realized that nothing looks familiar? It doesn't make any sense.

His eyes land on the sign: the train is expected in five minutes. "We must be waiting for the train. This is Chicago, right? We’re… Are we visiting your family?"

Shane shakes his head as his hand goes to his pocket. "I've never been here before. And I don’t have my phone." He stands up and walks towards the spray painted billboards and map, studying them. Ryan stays close to him, anxiety pumping through his veins and making him feel sick. Shane says, "This is the green line, but I don't — I have no fucking idea what's going on. "

"What's the last thing you remember before this?"

Shane’s eyes lock with Ryan’s. There’s something in them, something that makes Ryan’s stomach sink, and he realizes it’s fear. “I was worried about you,” Shane says, “but I… I don’t know why.” He reaches out, his cold hands cupping Ryan’s face, making Ryan shiver. “Maybe this is just some fucked up nightmare, but I feel like something bad is going to happen and I never...” He seems to steel himself before saying, “I never told you.”

Ryan’s heart stops and then restarts, suddenly racing. “Told me what?”

“That I — that I’m stupidly in love with you.”

Ryan’s insides feel like they’re melting. Shane looks like he means it, like he has been wanting to say those words for as long as Ryan has wanted to hear them. It’s more than Ryan ever hoped for. “You are?”

“I know this probably fucks up a lot of things between us, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t —”

“Shut up,” Ryan says, and it comes out choked as tears well up. He feels stupid suddenly crying like this. He feels overwhelmed and scared and cold, but more than anything else, he feels a burning happiness in his heart. “How has it not been obvious that I’m in love with you too? For years, I’ve — I’ve been hoping.”

Shane kisses him. Ryan’s arms wrap around Shane, their bodies melting together. They’ve been at the edge of this for so long, teetering between friendship and something more, always holding back for reasons that Ryan can’t even remember right now.

And then a gust of freezing wind swipes at them, and the kiss ends. They both shiver, but Shane’s hand finds his.

“We’ll circle back to this when we’re out of this freaky-ass place,” Shane says, and Ryan gives a short laugh as he quickly wipes away the tears from his eyes with his free hand. “Come on.” Shane pulls him towards the doorway at the end of the platform.

Ryan follows but glances back. The train is expected in two minutes.

_At least we’re together. Whatever happens, at least he’s here._

They go down the stairs and are met with metal gates, held closed together with chains and a big iron padlock.

“Fuck,” Shane says as he lets go of Ryan’s hand to pull at the lock. It doesn’t budge. “How the fuck are we going to get out of here?”

“We could get on the train.”

“No,” Shane says sharply as he turns around to face Ryan. His face is serious in a way that Ryan has never seen before. It frightens him. “There’s something bad about the train — about this whole place. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

“You sound like me. This place gives off bad feelings. Like there’s something evil here.” He turns around and walks up the stairs. “Let’s try to find another exit.”

The train is expected in one minute, and there are no other exits, not on this side of the station. Ryan holds the freezing rail and looks down at the streets below. He doesn’t recognize anything, and the light is fading fast. Everything is covered in shadows.

Ryan says, “There are no people here. We can’t even yell for help.”

“We’re trapped.” Shane is frowning again as he scans the streets below. When he turns to look at Ryan, the fear is back in his eyes. “We’ve been here before. I remember, I was watching you and then you were gone and I was — I _saw_ you, and we called for help and you didn’t —”

“Wait, slow down, slow down. What are you talking about?”

“This place. We have been here before. Ryan, you were right. There is something evil here.”

Ryan’s mouth drops open. If Shane didn’t look so serious, Ryan would think this was a joke. _Shane would never say that. I don’t remember ever being here. None of this makes sense._ Ryan takes a step back, away from the rail. Away from Shane. Fear grips him tightly, every muscle in his body tense. His body shivers.

The sound of the train approaching begins to fade in.

Shane says, “We need to go.”

“Go where? How the hell are we going to get out of here?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t stay.”

“Why don’t I remember? Why were we here before?”

“I don’t _know!”_ Shane yells, and it makes Ryan flinch. “I just know that we have to go. I have to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

Shane’s eyes widen in terror as Ryan feels something grab the back of his jacket and yank him backwards. Ryan loses his footing as he is dragged over towards the tracks.

“Ryan!” Shane runs, arms outstretched, and he lunges to grab at Ryan’s legs. He misses by a few inches.

A scream of horror is ripped from Ryan’s throat as he’s tossed over, his eyes on Shane as he falls backwards. He can smell the metal of the train just a second away. All Ryan can do is squeeze his eyes shut and brace for impact.

There is burning darkness and pain that rips him apart over and over.

...and he takes a gasping breath as he opens his eyes, the gust of wind finally subsiding.

“Ryan!”

He turns to see Shane running towards him. Before Ryan can say anything, he’s wrapped in a tight hug. “Hey, big guy. Did you miss me?” Ryan chuckles, joking, but Shane’s hug tightens and he hears Shane sniffle. “You okay?”

Shane lets him go but stays close, a small, scared whimper escaping him as he wipes at his eyes quickly. Worry takes over as Ryan quickly places a hand on Shane’s arm. Shane is looking at him with an intensity that Ryan doesn’t understand. “Sorry, I just — I’m so glad I found you.”

“Found me?”

“We have to get out of here.” He grabs Ryan’s hand and all but runs towards the doorway at the other end of the platform. Ryan struggles to keep up.

“Shane, wait, hold on,” he says, but Shane doesn’t. Shane doesn’t even hesitate before heading downstairs, Ryan’s hand still tightly gripped in his. “Shane!”

“Fuck!” He lets go of Ryan’s hand to pull at the big iron padlock holding the gates closed. When it doesn’t budge, he yells in frustration, the sound desperate, and Ryan takes a step back. He feels fear flash through him.

_I’ve never seen him like this._ “Can you just stop for one second to tell me what’s going on?”

Shane runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back, before fully turning to face Ryan. “You really don’t remember? Okay, fuck, how do I —”

“Seriously, I’m freaking the fuck out over here! Just tell me!”

“Okay, okay, so we came to Chicago,” Shane says. “This is the abandoned Mondgarten station. We came to film for Unsolved — is any of this ringing a bell?” When Ryan doesn’t say anything, he continues, “We were still setting up, and you were looking at this old ad with graffiti and — and no one else saw you except for me. You read the words, and then you were gone.”

“Gone where?”

“You just fucking vanished!” Shane walks towards him until they’re only inches apart, his eyes looking into Ryan’s, Ryan’s head tilted back. “I was so scared. No one believed me — _I_ could barely believe it.”

“You’re scaring me,” Ryan admits, because he can’t _remember,_ can’t understand how Shane — _Shane Madej,_ who refuses to entertain his theories, who shakes his head no, who not once has been swayed by anything — is saying any of this. None of this makes sense.

Shane’s arms are around him again, holding him close. Ryan returns the hug, his cold face pressed against Shane’s chest. “I’m sorry,” Shane says. “I just thought I would never see you again, and I was going crazy. You’ve got to remember, Ry. Please. We have to get out of here.”

“How? The gates are locked.”

“There has to be a way.” He lets go of Ryan but grabs his hand. “Come on.”

Ryan scans the platform as they go back upstairs, noting how run down it looks. How he and Shane are the only two people here. How there is a malicious energy radiating everywhere that gives him goosebumps.

There are no other exits, not on this side of the platform.

“Fuck,” Shane says. “Well maybe…” He leads Ryan to one of the faded billboards. It’s covered with graffiti, most of it unintelligible, but there are small letters to one corner and Shane points to those. “Read that.”

Ryan hesitates, but a glance at Shane tells him he is waiting. He takes a deep breath before reading out loud, " _Ex solem in umbra. Esto perpetua."_

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Shane looks around as if expecting something to happen, but nothing does. Shane only tightens his grip on Ryan's hand and sighs, and Ryan thinks, _we’re trapped._

“You said you found me,” Ryan says slowly, carefully. “How?”

“The same way you got here. I waited for twilight the next day and read it out loud too.”

“What?” Ryan frowns, his heart racing. Shane’s still tightly holding on to his hand. _If he knew what he was giving up, if he saw what happened to me —_ “But why?”

Shane doesn’t look at him, only takes a step closer. “I was so scared and desperate. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being gone. You’re my best friend.”

Ryan’s heart is pounding in his chest, each beat almost painful. He swallows around the knot in his throat, around the fear and the doubt, and says, “You’re my best friend too. You’re — you’re more than that.”

Shane’s eyes come up to meet his. A thrill runs through Ryan’s stomach, and a memory comes back online. The van full of the Unsolved crew. Shane sitting close to him in the back seat, closer than necessary. Shane cracking dumb jokes to distract him from the fact that they were heading to the abandoned Mondgarten station, which reportedly housed a demon.

Before he can chicken out, before logic and reason can stop him, Ryan admits, “I’m in love with you.”

Shane breathes a sigh of relief, and he quickly wraps Ryan in his arms. Shane kisses him, the feeling electric as their bodies press close together. _Finally, finally, finally_.

Then there’s a sound in the distance that startles them, breaking the kiss. Ryan glances at the sign: the train is expected in zero minutes.

He feels a chill run down his spine, something dark and cold, but before he can process it, Shane’s arms tighten around him again. “No,” Shane says, but his eyes are on something that Ryan can’t see.

Ryan tightens his own grip on Shane’s coat, terror flooding him as Shane takes several steps back, taking Ryan with him. Then Ryan feels it, feels something grab his leg and _pull._

“ _No!”_ Shane yells, his hold on Ryan crushing, and Ryan feels helpless as he loses his balance, as something pulls on him so hard that he feels Shane’s hold on him loosen.

The train is coming, it’s closer, and Ryan kicks helplessly at the air. Shane falls as that invisible force continues to pull, but he doesn’t let go of Ryan. They fall to the floor and get dragged several steps towards the edge of the platform.

“Let go!” Ryan yells, and in his panicked mind he doesn’t know if he’s yelling at the thing dragging them or if he’s yelling at Shane. Because Shane is holding on, he’s not letting go, and that means he’s in danger. That means he’s putting himself at risk for Ryan again, and Ryan yells, “Let me go!”

Shane manages to sit up, knees bent to dig his heels into the floor, creating friction. With strength that Ryan didn’t know Shane possessed, he pulls Ryan closer, away from the tracks a few inches. “I’ve got you,” Shane says, voice barely loud enough for Ryan to hear. “I’m not letting go.”

The train is almost here; Ryan can hear it. He closes his eyes and tightens his own grip on Shane. There’s an angry, inhuman roar, and Ryan doesn’t know if it’s the train or the thing that is still trying to pull them towards the edge. They lose inches as Ryan is pulled with renewed intensity.

Then there’s the deafening sound of screeching metal, and a cold gust of wind hits them, burns at Ryan’s lungs, and Shane’s arms are so tight around him —

And then there’s silence.

Ryan takes a gasping breath, his heart hammering at his ribcage. He opens his eyes and sees Shane. Their eyes meet as they both pant. A moment passes where they’re still tense, waiting, but nothing grabs them again. Ryan quickly scrambles to his knees and throws his arms around Shane. He pulls back only slightly to kiss his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth, his lips. _Thank you, you’re safe, oh thank god, we’re safe._

Shane kisses him back, and when they pull apart, there are tears in his eyes.

Then they look back at the train which has arrived and stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [miraclesofpaul.tumblr.com](https://miraclesofpaul.tumblr.com/)
> 
> A thank you to my beautiful girlfriend Tiia for always reading my shitty drafts and telling me they're good anyway, and another thank you to Katherine Mansfield since this fic was me trying to imitate her writing.


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